


One More Month

by ardentmuse



Series: Charlie Weasley Imagines [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Flirting, Forehead Kisses, Foreplay, Gentle Sex, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Minor Injuries, Romance, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sneaking, Swearing, True Love, Vaginal Sex, Video Game: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery, ardentmuse almost 2k celebration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 15:44:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20762834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentmuse/pseuds/ardentmuse
Summary: tumblr request for 2k celebration: Congrats!!!!!!! I can't wait to read all the wonderful pics you write!!!!! This looks like so much fun!!! 39 for charlie Weasley please and thank you!!!Charlie is injured from quidditch and in the hospital wing. You pay a visit on your rounds and attempt to give him your own kind of healing.





	One More Month

“Y/N, what are you doing here,” Charlie whispered as you lifted the blankets to his cot in the hospital wing in the wee hours of the morning. You pressed your finger to his mouth just as he started his final word. And soon you were hidden up to your neck in your boyfriend’s temporary covers.

A rogue bludger had decided Charlie’s shoulder looked like a nice place to collide during that afternoon’s friendly. That alone would have been fine – Charlie was made of tougher stuff – but the hit had toppled him off his broom. Hooch managed to catch him before he fell to the ground but not before his body collided with the opposing team’s left hoop. The sound his leg made as it snapped against the metal still made you cringe, but Charlie seemed unfazed. Some bruising, some healing to the bone, some rest and a few days off the pitch was all that the incident required. But those were Charlie’s injuries. Your injuries – the ones to your brain at the idea that you could lose this sweet man you loved so much so easily – were not so easily cured. 

“Was doing my rounds,” you hummed into his shoulder as you planted light kisses upon the exposed skin. Charlie was sleeping in only his boxer and the feel of his bare skin, hot and smooth against your fingers, was such a welcome feeling, a reminder of his health and virility even in his moment of weakness. “And I thought you could use some company.” 

Charlie smiled, or at least you thought he did. It was hard to tell with your head buried against his chest and your hands roaming the exquisite expanse of toned stomach and ribs that lay before you. He let out a light hiss as your lips moved across a bruise upon his shoulder but it was immediately followed by a sigh as Charlie fell further back into the pillows. His hands found root in your hair, encouraging the kind of healing only you could give him.

“You know you could get in quite a lot of trouble for sneaking in here,” he whispered, but his shallow breaths as your fingers teased at the edge of his boxers made it clear his words were simply platitudes to his future guilty conscience. 

“You know I thought of that,” you hummed, tickling at his earlobe, “But then I remembered that I’m a naughty bitch.” 

Charlie felt you smile against his neck as his hands held tight to your waist, securing you against him. He swallowed.

“Love,” he warned, as your fingers continued their journey southward. At the lightest caress of your fingertips, he closed his eyes and threw his head into the pillow.

Your hand gave a gentle squeeze to the hardened silk of him that only your hands had ever the joy of knowing.

“We only have another month until we’re out of here. Then you’ll move in with me in Romania and we can do this every morning if you want. But, please, love… you know I can’t say no to you.” 

You paused your hand to meet his gaze. His expression made it clear that his mind was waging a war; he clearly desired you but also desired to not get caught. 

You lifted your head to kiss him slow and pure of the mouth. His hands found your hips and held you close as he slowly explored you with his tongue. 

“Every morning then,” you whispered to him. 

“I can’t imagine you’d want me every morning.”

“I can’t imagine that I wouldn’t.” 

Charlie chuckled and held you tight to him. The heat radiating off of his body warmed your heart, just another pleasant reminder of the closeness you two would be able to share so soon. You imagined walking around your new home naked for the majority of your first month together, just in awe of the fact that you got to see him, all of him, whenever you so wished it. 

As his laughter subsided, you rested once more against Charlie’s sternum, allowing your cheek to enjoy the soft scrapping of his chest hair. 

“Whatever you say, love,” he whispered against your hair before planting a kiss upon your brow. And within a minute, you felt his breathing even out and sleep find him, and you fell asleep soon after. 

image  
Your sleep was not nearly as restful as your partners. You had stopped by with the hopes of giving him some comfort and soon he had filled your mind with ideas about all the wonderful ways you might enjoy your freedom and privacy upon your graduation – images of a much more forward Charlie, leading you by the hand to your shared bed, worshipping your body with his own, showering you in kisses upon parts of your skin only he could see, making you come with him as the morning light broke through the trees, leaving you to feel the gentle ache and emptiness between your legs as you recovered throughout the morning. 

And that was the thought you woke to in the darkness of the hospital wing. Charlie’s mouth was buried in your hair and he softly whispered your name, dreamily and slurred. His hips were rocking with a steady rhythm against your thigh in a way that let you know his dreams were not all that different from your own.

“Charlie,” you whispered, rubbing this hair from his eyes, the sweat sticking them to his forehead. 

“Charlie.” 

“Ba-by, that’s… it,” was all he managed as he squeezed tighter to your waist.

“So good. So perf–. Mine.” 

He was fully erect against your rear, his length straining painfully against his boxers. You loved this man who was dreaming of you, whose fantasies were filled with his partner alone, and as your heart swelled, you realized it would be cruel to leave him in such a tortured state. 

“Charles,” you said, hoping your irregular sound would jar him somehow. When he didn’t seem to stop his gentle rocking into you, you turned in his arms pressing your core against him and felt the jolt through your body at the sensual reminder of the kinds of pleasures that wonderful shaft of his could bring you. 

“Ugh,” Charlie groaned, squeezing you more. You leaned forward and captured his lips in a kiss, soft and sweet. He loved you, even in his dreams, and nothing felt more right and pure than that. 

Charlie’s hand squeezed lightly at the flesh of your ass, and somehow, that little movement was enough to rouse him fully. 

“Sweetheart?” he whispered as he rubbed his eyes. 

You didn’t respond with words, instead kissing him once more, though this time with much more tongue, as you ground your body into his. His moans alone had turned you on quite a bit. This man would be your joy and your torture, so it seemed. 

His hands found your hips to help you in your motion. You were straddling him fully now as you lost yourself in your kisses, a sloppy, sleepy make-out, so different from the normal control Charlie maintained. His length ran against you, finding home against your core underneath your school skirts, pressing into your panties and sliding between your folds in a deliciously tempting way. He was like stone for you and your body could do nothing but crave him. 

You pushed yourself down hard on him and he groaned against you mouth, biting at your bottom lip. His breathing was staggered and he was heated all over. You wanted to strip him more to relieve him of his burning but there was nothing more to remove but the thin piece of silky cloth that alone was providing you with any semblance of self-control. 

“Love,” Charlie said against your mouth, encouraging you to pull away from just a second, “Would you still consider yourself a naughty bitch?” 

Charlie didn’t need to clarify. His fingers were dancing low between your thighs, having slid from your hips to tease at the lining of your panties, already soaked for him. 

Holding his gaze, you reached your hand back to grab at his shaft. He bit his lip, suppressing a needy moan. And that was all the encouragement you needed to pull him from the confines of his boxers. His fingers danced against your core as he shifted the small fabric that had hid your entrance from him. Together, looking solely at your other, you each shifted so your bodies would meet. And with a hard push from your hips, Charlie’s tip found home inside of you.

“Fuck,” he whisper-yelled against his pillow. He quickly looked back at you. “So good,” he added, “You’re perfection.” 

Even just his bulbous tip instead of you was enough to begin to relieve that aching need in your core. He stretched you so gently, filled you in a way that only he could, and even though the painful longing was reduced, it was quickly replaced with a rather carnal desire to drain him of everything he had to give you. 

With a wicked smile upon your lips, you held his shoulders and rolled your hips down, taking the length of him into you in a single thrust. You couldn’t suppress the groan as your eyes rolled back with pleasure as he bottomed out inside of you. Part of you seriously mourned that inch of him that never got to know you intimately, that poor little bit of his shaft that simply couldn’t fit, not until his final push where he would bury himself full in you to sputter to orgasm. You wanted all of him. 

Charlie pulled you down so you were chest to chest, taking over the work of the slow and calculated thrusting that left you dizzy. He was making quick work of bringing you to orgasm, strong thrusts the continuously stroked your just right, the soft roll of his hips that rubbed your clit against his pelvic bone, and the gentle nipping of your ear and neck as he breathed you in. You were putty to him, to mold as he so fashioned, to heal his spirit as well as his body from the pain it had so endured. 

As the sounds of his strokes inside of you, wet and persistent, grew louder to your ears, Charlie locked his arms around you and sat upright. You held tight to his shoulder to not lose your position, but Charlie had other plans. He lifted himself up on his strong thighs, holding you tightly to him so your legs had no choice but to fall back behind his back. You were now sitting upon his lap in the way school children might sit for story time, criss-cross apple sauce, but when he rocked his hips into you, you knew you were far from childish games. 

“Oh, god,” was all you managed as you rested yourself in his arms. The new position was intimate, heavenly, to hold each other so close, the closest two humans could ever be, felt like the sort of promise you hoped you would exchange in much nicer clothes someday. 

“The name’s Charlie, love. So sad you’ve forgotten,” he whispered in your ears as he continued to languidly explore you. You couldn’t help but laugh. He really was his father some days, though you didn’t really want to be thinking about that at the moment. 

With your laughter, he picked up his pace and his hand began working the space in between you. Your nerves were on fire for him and as he touched and stroked that bundle at the top of your folds, you thought you would light up the both of you.

You screamed as you felt your body clenching down on him. Charlie had grown inside of you, so hard and full that you didn’t think you could fit him any more. It was torture so beautiful that nothing could ease your pain but your own release.

Charlie’s mouth captured your own to stifle the moans. His hand caressed your lower back, helping you to rock your hips into his cock and his hand so you might find your release even sooner. And with that movement, you did. You spasmed and clenched against him, enjoying the feel of your body trembling for the man you loved. He held you close and whispered into your ear that he loved you as you whimpered in your release. Waves of electricity rocked through you, each more pleasurable than the last, until your felt that joyous calm that Charlie’s strokes always provided. 

A few more thrusts and Charlie was collapsed back against the pillows, his whole self finally home in your body, his head contracting with each wave of ejaculation that coated your insides. As he softened, you felt the new type of fullness of his seed inside of you, claiming you as his own. As even though you knew children were quite a number of years down the road for you, the idea that part of Charlie might live inside of you, a reminder of your coupling, was unreasonably pleasant. 

“I agree,” Charlie whispered as he lifted your hips off of him, “You are indeed quite naughty.” 

You giggled as Charlie handed you some tissues from his nightstand. He took a few himself and began the gentle process of cleaning up the sore parts of your body. 

“It’s your fault for being so beautiful,” you said. You tossed the tissues off the bed and into the bin, and, after a moment, reached for your wand and transfigured the clump of tissues into a crumpled bit of parchment, eliminating any signs of your nighttime escapades. 

“I’ve got bruises all over my body, I broke a rib, and I have a black eye. I’m not too beautiful at the moment, I’m certain.”

You looked up to assess your lover for the first time since the sun was just beginning to break through the clouds outside. His nose was quite dark, hiding the freckles you loved so much, and his eye was quite swollen and puffy. His hair was a mess of red curls, fallen from their normal ponytail and cascading in uneven segments around his head. He was a bit worse for wear, but he was still your handsome Charlie.

You kissed him once again. “Still beautiful.”

“And you are still delusional.”

You laughed as you lifted yourself from the bed and gathered your robes. 

“Dorm will be waking soon. Gotta get back, love.” 

Charlie began to nestle once more into the covers, the exhaustion of his injuries and of his orgasm coming together all at once. You finished your dressing at kissed him one more on the forehead. As you began to walk away, he caught your wrist. You turned to see his eyes open again, staring at you with all the love you knew you felt for him in return. 

“One more month,” he said before kissing your palm.

“One more month.” 

As you slipped out of the hospital wing, you looked once more upon his bed. Charlie was already sleeping once more, his arms thrown over his head and his broad chest rising and falling in peaceful slumber. Clearly the healing magic your lovemaking gave him was doing its worth. 

You smiled and returned to your dorm, thinking about that simple sight and how lucky you’ll be when you get to see it each and every morning for the rest of your life together.

**Author's Note:**

> https://ardentmuse.tumblr.com/post/187925935846/congrats-i-cant-wait-to-read-all-the


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